


Pass the Popcorn

by Freebirdflying



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Caught in the Act, M/M, Reaction, Secret Relationship, Sherlock's a Drama Queen, mystrade, squawking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 02:55:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8648950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freebirdflying/pseuds/Freebirdflying
Summary: John sees the drama coming, and sits back to enjoy the show.  Sherlock should really learn to knock.





	

“Got any popcorn?” 

Sgt. Sally Donovan glanced up from the pile of reports she was filling out to find John Watson leaning nonchalantly against her desk, arms folded casually. She narrowed her eyes. She and Watson were on civil terms now, since she’d stopped calling Sherlock a freak, at least out loud, since he had turned out to be less dead than previously believed, but not on such good terms that him stopping by just to chat would seem normal. 

“Popcorn…?” 

“Because there’s going to be a show, and your desk has the best view.” 

“Excuse me?” Well, after all these years with ~~the freak~~ Sherlock, John Watson couldn’t be totally sane. 

John stretched lazily and then refolded his arms. He kept a straight face, but it was obvious he was trying not to laugh. “Did you happen to see who went into Lestrade’s office?” 

“No, I just got back from lunch ten minutes ago, and no one’s come or gone since then…” Sally replied, still unsure as to where this conversation was going. “I don’t even know if Greg’s in there.” 

“Oh, he’s in there, alright.” John’s lips were definitely quirking into a smirk now. 

Sally raised an eyebrow. “And…?” 

“He’s not alone.” Sally raised another eyebrow. 

“So…,” John was obviously relishing this. “I was planning to meet Sherlock here to give our statements for the Wolinski case. I got here a bit before him--he’s been at Bart’s all morning--and I thought I’d go ahead and let Lestrade know I’m here if he was ready to get started. I knocked on his door just now, but there was no answer. Thought I’d just go grab some coffee and come back, but just as I was turning away, I heard someone _moaning_ inside.”

He wasn’t even trying to pretend he wasn’t having to hold back laughter by now, but he had Sally’s full attention.

“Being a doctor, of course I have to check and make sure he’s not in there dying from drinking the bloody awful swill they call coffee around here, so I peeked into that little spot over there where the blind is pulled back.” 

Pause for dramatic effect. Sally tapped her pen, not noticing she was leaving splotches down her finger. 

“Actually, forget the popcorn...I think I need to bleach my eyeballs. Lestrade is apparently having some...um...afternoon delight...in his office…and I’ll never be able to sit on the couch in there again now that I know it’s had bare arse on it. So, yeah, eyeball bleaching.” 

“Oh _really_? And after that long-winded speech last week about professional behaviour in the office,” she snorted. “I’ve suspected he was seeing someone, but he’s been unusually close-mouthed about it.”

“Yeah, I suspected too, but I hadn’t really paid much attention until now.”

So, why do you think there’s going to be a show? The blinds are--thank God--closed...although eventually there will have to be a walk of shame...” Well, this livens the day up a bit, thought Sally. “Anyone I would know? Have to keep on top of the office gossip!” 

John grinned like a lunatic before schooling his features. “Yes, actually…” 

“Oh, stop trying to be dramatic and tell me already. You’re not Sherlock; spit it out!”

“Mycroft Holmes.” 

“Holmes?” Sally repeated slowly. “Is that…?”

“Yup, Sherlock’s brother.”

Sally let out a squawk. “ _Sherlock’s brother_?? I...I didn’t even realize that Greg, um, liked blokes…”

“Yeah, me neither. But from the five seconds I saw--that will probably take five years to scrub from my memory--he apparently does. Rather enthusiastically. ….God, this is going to be awkward.” 

“ _Very_ awkward, I’m sure. Does Sherlock know about them?”

“Nope,” John replied, popping the P. “Or, at least not as far as I know; he hasn’t said anything, and I imagine that if he did know he wouldn’t have held back from saying quite a lot. That’s where the show comes in. Sherlock will be here in…” -pause to check watch- “approximately three minutes. And _he_ won’t knock.” John was openly snickering by now. 

“Oooh, this _is_ going to be good. Damn, we do need popcorn.” Sally glanced around the room wildly. DI Dimmock and Anderson were chatting in front of the lifts. Anderson was heading back down to the forensics lab after turning in some reports, and he had his kit with him. Sally hissed to get their attention and frantically waved them over. She tried to avoid any but professional contact with Anderson these days, but he would have a good camera in that kit, and desperate times call for desperate measures. 

“Quick, get your camera out!” she hissed at Anderson. 

“Huh? Why do I need my…” 

“Just do it, quick! Greg’s fucking Sherlock’s brother in his office, Sherlock doesn’t know, and he’ll be here in two minutes. I, for one, think this might be a filmable event,” she said in a rush. 

Anderson boggled. Dimmock’s brain caught up faster, and he tugged the forensics kit out of his grip and popped it open on Sally’s desk. Anderson caught up enough to gasp out, “Second tray..there..” 

“Quick, Sally, give me a report and pretend you’re asking me a question about my statement, so he doesn’t come over here when he comes in,” John directed. Dimmock readied the camera and hid it behind the interoffice envelope he was carrying. “Anderson, get behind that fake ficus there until he passes us.” 

“Why am I always the one who has to..” he whinged, cutting off abruptly at the combined glares from both John and Sally. He stepped back just in time. 

The lfit doors opened and Sherlock swanned out with a swirl of his coattails and strode purposefully towards Lestrade’s door, mind obviously still occupied with whatever experiment he had been terrorizing Molly with. Sally bent to retrieve a fictional dropped pen, Dimmock studiously looked in the other direction to hide his glinting eyes, and John put a bored look on his face and waved distractedly for Sherlock to go on without him. The second Sherlock’s gaze passed over them and locked on his destination, they all scrambled to get the best view. Dimmock hit record.

As Sherlock’s hand reached for the knob, there was a muffled shout, still loud enough to be heard by the amused audience gathered at Donovan’s desk. Sherlock’s eyebrow quirked up but he didn’t pause his move to open the door. 

Three people gasped, and in the brief moment they were all frozen in shock, an interesting array of emotions flitted across Sherlock’s face: surprise, revulsion, consternation, revulsion, amusement, disbelief, and revulsion again. That one looked likely to be on repeat for a while. 

Sherlock let out an outraged squawk. 

Lestrade was the first to find his voice. “Damn it, Sherlock! What part of a closed door do you not understand??”

“What part of _locking_ the door do you not understand? And..what...why…Mycroft? Really? HOW did I not see this??” 

“SHUT THE DOOR!” 

Sherlock slammed it shut and continued his muttering, “scarred...what...Mycroft??...brain...must delete…should have seen...” 

Sounds of an undignified scramble came from inside, and after a couple of minutes the door opened again to two red-faced but now decently zipped up lovers. John nearly doubled over laughing when he noticed that _Mycroft’s waistcoat was inside out_. Fastidious, unflappable Mycroft! 

“Brother, I…” 

Sherlock let out another squawk of dismay. “HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN GOING ON??“.

“Now see here, Sherlock…”

“HOW DID I MISS THIS??”

“ _Really_ , Sherlock, do you honestly believe that you can deduce _me_?” 

“Mycroft, you have certainly abandoned your precious principles…”

“Hey now, you can just shut your trap if you’re going to insult my...um. Mycroft is…”

“That was the most revolting thing I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen Anderson trying to flirt...”

“Sherlock, these dramatics are unbecoming. I clearly recall you declaring, and I quote, ‘Sex does not alarm me.’”

“Lestrade, I know you only have a limited intelligence, but I didn’t realize you could attain this level of idiocy…”

“Oi!” It was Greg’s turn to squawk. 

“SHERLOCK! Gregory is…”

“...Have you suffered a recent traumatic brain injury, Lestrade? It was the Huffords case last week, wasn’t it?”

“I must insist that you desist in…”

“ _Gregory_? I should have guessed, Mycroft, that you would be uptight even when getting off…”

“Alright, enough of this, let’s all just be adults here...Christ, I’m never going to hear the end of this…”

“...in fact, how does it even work, for someone so uptight? Lestrade, I hope you invested in the economy-sized container of lubricant…”

It was Mycroft’s turn to squawk. 

“Sherlock, damn it, that’s bloody enough. This is my office, and I will do wha…”

“Doing my brother?? Aeeuueegghh.” 

“...WHAT I WANT IN MY OFFICE. NO ONE ASKED YOUR OPINION. MAYBE THIS WILL FINALLY TEACH YOU NOT TO BARGE IN...”

“Vulgarity really is beneath you, brother…” 

Sherlock squinched his eyes shut and spun around. “...JOHN! John, I regret the burden I will become for you, as you will have to care for me in my blindness, as my eyeballs are melting…the world’s going dark...” John just giggled harder. 

Sally directed a look towards her boss that left him in no doubt that any future admonitions about professional behaviour from him would not be received with any gravitas. 

Lestrade finally noticed the camera in Dimmock’s hand and his face somehow turned an even deeper shade of red than it already was. He started to step towards him with rage in his eyes. Dimmock’s eyes widened and he automatically stepped back until his bum hit Donovan’s desk. His life was saved when Mycroft caught his...lover? boyfriend? friend-with-benefits?...by the arm and started muttering something about remote destruction of files and deportation to Myanmar. 

“Disgusting, why can’t I delete it, delete, _delete_... “ 

John finally managed to pull himself together enough to control his laughter. With a few last huffs he strode over, muttering to Dimmock on his way by, “Back that up right now, in several different places, before any of them gets to it.” He caught Sherlock by the sleeve, “Come on, love, just breathe,” and pulled him into Lestrade’s office, crowding Mycroft and Lestrade back inside the door as well. His Captain Watson voice could be heard overriding the three sputtering voices still vying to express their outrage. 

Meanwhile, Sally sent out a mass email to the entire division: “Film showing in the conference room, NOW. You don’t want to miss this. Bring popcorn!”

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfic I've ever completed; I've got a dozen Johnlock fics in my head, but somehow a Mystrade fic just came out. I'm American, so if you see anything I've missed as far as brit-picking, please let me know. Constructive criticism welcome!


End file.
